"Where are we?" I asked, sitting down to ease some of my dizziness.
"On the top of the Empire State Building," he said, sitting next to me.
"Seriously?" I shivered again, but more from his close proximity than the actual chill in the air.
"Cold?" he asked.
"A little," I said, not wanting him to know my shivers were because of him.
"Here," he said, shrugging out of his trademark leather coat.
"Won't you be cold?" I asked as I slid my arms into the cool sleeves of the jacket. It was weird that no heat remained from his body. It felt more like the jacket had been hanging in a closet. Regardless, it did the trick and immediately started to warm me.
"How soon before my warden shows up?" I asked, trying not to think about how good it felt to be wrapped up in his jacket.
He laughed long and hard before answering. "Longer than you'd think."
"What do you mean?" I asked, wondering what I was missing.
"Just put it this way: Haniel will have a hard time finding us with the shield I've employed."
"I hate to break it to you, Trader, but he's kind of got a direct line with The Light. He can find anyone."
"The Light is only helpful when he chooses to be. You'd be surprised how often your little protector spends cooling his heels waiting for his boss to give him the time of day."
I mulled over his words, knowing he had a point. Haniel himself had mentioned on more than one occasion that he needed to seek an audience with The Light.
"So, this is your favorite place?" I asked, changing the subject. The view from the metal catwalk where we were perched was truly spectacular.
"Well, not the actual catwalk, but the location. Here, scoot closer to the edge," he said, tugging on my legs until they dangled off the edge like his. My heart raced as I peered down. I had never been up so high, and I couldn't decide if I was frightened or exhilarated. The headlights on the cars below looked like they belonged on some elaborate kid toy as they buzzed around. It's amazing how peaceful it all looked from this height. In a way, I kind of envied their lives. They woke up, went to work, went back home, slept, and started the whole process over again the next day. I'm sure a lot of them thought it was monotonous and boring, but to me, it had a comforting normalcy to it. Angels were something they heard about in church each Sunday, not a part of their everyday lives. I wondered how different my life would be if my aunt and uncle didn't have a direct line to heaven.
"Penny for your thoughts," Emrys said, holding out an aged copper penny.
"Does that corny line still work? Besides, I'm not sure they're even worth that," I said, reaching out to take the penny anyway. I cradled it in my hand, studying the date. "Nineteen fifty-two?" I inquired.
"Good year," he said, leaning back on his hands.
"I know, right? Poodle skirts, sock hops, milkshakes, and Mom's meatloaf," I retorted.
He shot me a crooked smile before answering. "You sure are sarcastic for an angel."
"Never said I was an angel," I snipped back.
"Don't fool yourself, sweets, you're more angel than I am."
"That's not saying much," I said. "You're like some grim reaper?"
"Ouch," he answered, clutching where his heart would have been. "How dare you call me a grim reaper. I prefer 'soul man,'" he taunted, wagging his eyebrows at me.
"Oh brother," I said, pointing into my mouth to gag myself. I took a swat at his arm, but he captured my hand in his.
My breath hitched in my throat, and my sarcastic attitude disintegrated in the thin air. Hand holding was a new experience for me. I tried to act indifferent as I leaned over, studying the endless lights below us. The temperature of Emrys's hand was much like the jacket. I'm not sure why I had assumed it would be hot to the touch. Or maybe I did know why and just didn't want to admit it. My train of thought crashed and burned when he started tracing patterns on the back of my hand. I had to work hard to maintain a slow and steady breath.
"So, the tat, what does it mean?" I asked, trying to ignore the nagging voice that was taunting me over why he'd brought me here in the first place.
His finger stalled. "Nothing really. It's just something from my human days," he finally answered after several minutes had passed. I was beginning to think I had entered into some "no visitors allowed" part of his mind. I fidgeted uncomfortably, fighting the sudden urge to snatch my hand away.
"You remember being human?" I asked, trying to break the awkward silence.